I am throwing myself a pity party tonight. If you don't want to read about a grotesque amount of 'poor me', then look away.....Really. I am a sad sap tonight.
I have the stomach flu. Briar had it two days ago. Now me. I am sure Liv will be next.
But for now, I feel so very sorry for myself as I sit on the can so long that it forms a large circular indent on my arse while cradling an old ice cream pail on my knees. I attempt to not stare at the small stains at the bottom of the vomit recepticle while wondering/obsessing over what they are. Dust? Small bits of broken fly bodies cleaned from the window tracks? Pieces of old dried up rotten food lodged there from cast-off in its' home under the kitchen sink beside the garbage can? The reek of vinegar and orange oil does NOT help with the nauseousness.
I cling to this plastic pail wishing that I had someone in my life who would bring me a clean bucket. Who would entertain the kids so I don't have to keep answering the questions, "What's wrong, Mama?" and "Will you play with me?" or "Can I have something to eat?" Someone who would tuck me into bed and bring me ginger ale. Someone who would reassure me that I am not going to die on the shitter with a filthy pail on my knees leaving my children orphans who will have strange emotional issues surrounding the abandonment by both their mother and father to some fast unseen illness.
Life truly sucks when you're alone.....Especially when you're ill. No. It blows. It blows chunks.
Here's the story.
1 week ago